Cheat Codes
by ohmytheon
Summary: Ed finds out the hard way that even "old people" can be nerds.


**Parental!Royed Week Day 1: Red vs. Blue**

Disclaimer: I own neither FMA nor Halo.

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 _Cheat Codes_

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There was no way in hell that Ed was going to let this bastard beat him at his own game. He was the best, the greatest, and no one that he'd come across so far had been able to compare to him. And he didn't cheat either. He came across his skill through natural talent, dedication, and practice. A lot of late nights had befallen him as he persevered through every level. He was not going to let some hack come between him and winning like he always did.

But damnit all to hell, Roy Mustang was such a sneaky, cheap shot when it came to Halo 4.

When Mustang had inquired curiously about the video game, Ed had scoffed. The old man didn't have shit on him. He highly doubted that Mustang would even be capable of remembering the buttons, much less figure out how to zoom, aim, and shoot. There was a certain type of strategy that came with winning; Ed had spent a lot of time cultivating that and he was damn good. No way - it wouldn't even be fair for Ed to play against Mustang. This was his shit. He'd demolish Mustang. It would be almost demoralizing and humiliating.

Okay, so after thinking about it that way, Ed had "caved" and decided to play Mustang. He set up the game, seeing as how Mustang had never played it before, and gave a brief rundown of the controls. Mustang was, as expected, clumsy at first and kept throwing sticky grenades instead of meleeing, blowing himself up half the time in the process, but he eventually got the hang of it for the most part. They played online first together so that he could learn before fighting one another. It was only fair that Ed give Mustang some time to get acquainted with the game before kicking his ass.

On the floor at the foot of the couch, Al sat and watched them. He was pretty good at the game too, having spent many a night drinking energy drinks and playing online campaigns with Ed, but he wasn't as good as Ed. He liked to watch people play the games first, calling them interactive movies, and enjoyed seeing Ed go head-to-head with someone else. Normally, he loudly cheered Ed on, whooping and clapping his hands, but now he was wearing a look like he was trying not to laugh. Ed grit his teeth and hit the buttons on the controller with more force than necessary.

"Whose side are you on anyways?" Ed demanded as he barely avoided getting stabbed in the back with one of those cool alien swords.

Al smiled. "Yours, brother."

"Doesn't bloody seem like it," Ed grumbled. He jerked his whole body around as he played the game, throwing both his mind and body into it. He couldn't help himself. Whenever he did something, he was all in. He focused on the screen, gripped the controller tightly, and willed himself to relax, but nothing worked. Everything was tense and he felt close to doing something that he'd never done before: rage quit.

Meanwhile, Mustang sat on the opposite side of the couch cool as a cucumber. His body was relaxed, his grip on the controller loose, and his face passively interested, like he was barely paying attention. And yet his fingers moved along the controller both fluidly and quickly. Gone were the moments where he had to glance down at the controller to remember which buttons were "x" or "y". He had been doing well by the time they quit playing multiplayer online, but not this well.

He was so old! He should not be able to play video games like this!

Ed let out a cry as his player, a red Master Chief as he always picked, was shot in the head and flew off a balcony. "You bastard! Quit camping!" This was the eighth time that Mustang had sniped him. Where had he learned such precision and aim? It had to be from Hawkeye - only she was that good - but then Ed couldn't picture the blonde-haired woman sitting down to play Halo on Xbox.

Mustang arched an eyebrow. "So you'd rather play close range then?" Just then, he dropped down using a jetpack right on top of where Ed's player had respawned and shot him multiple times with one of those pansy ass pistols. It took everything in Ed to get away before his red blaring shield dropped to a dangerous level. "Hm, should've used the automatic."

" _'Should've used the automatic'_ ," Ed mimicked in a much higher pitch than Mustang's voice. He landed a sticky grenade on Mustang's blue version of Master Chief and jumped in his seat when it exploded. He was at least still much better at landing grenades than Mustang, who lobbed them at random. "Ha! Got you!"

Hawkeye walked back into the living room, a mug of hot tea in her hands, and peered at the screen where Ed's and Mustang's players were currently both blasting each other with guns, their shields whining. "Who's winning?"

Before Ed could even say anything, his player died, just before he could knock off Mustang's, and he yelled, "What the fuck!"

Traitorous brother that he was, Al answered in his place, "Mustang - by eight kills."

The match ended and Ed tossed his controller to the side. It bounced off a pillow and almost hit Al in the head. He would've deserved it too. Sinking back into the couch, Ed folded his arms across his chest and scowled at Mustang. "That was ridiculous. You can't be that good. You can't! You're old!"

Mustang smirked, far too smug for his own good, and Ed felt the urge to grab the controller and toss it at his face. Take that for a sticky grenade. "You're right; I am old. I've been playing video games before you were born." He calmly set his controller down on the coffee table and looked over at Hawkeye, who was smiling in amusement. "Remember that old Sega Genesis Madam Christmas sent me for my fourteenth birthday?"

"We used to play it until the sun came up," Hawkeye said. She took a sip of her tea and chuckled. "And then you'd panicked because you slacked on your studies."

"Sounds a lot like Ed," Al added with a laugh.

"Back at the Academy, when Hughes and I bunked together, we had a Playstation console that we'd play whenever we had downtime," Mustang said, a nostalgic look on his face. Ed had never even played a Sega or a first generation Playstation before. His first gaming console had been a regular Xbox. "I will admit to being partial to Sony and a Playstation's controllers, hence my initial struggle and bouts of clumsiness."

"This is impossible," Ed said, shaking his head and sulking even more. "This has to be a dream. There's no way that you, Mustang, knows anything about video games."

"I can confirm the fact that he's been a nerd all his life," Hawkeye told him.

Al laughed again. "Just like you, brother!"

Leaning forward, Ed tried to smack Al upside the head for saying such an awful thing, but he easily moved out of the way and gave him a cheeky grin. His little brother wasn't nearly as sweet and innocent as everyone thought him to be. Snatching up the controller, he pointed an accusing finger at Mustang. "I demand a rematch."

"Are you so eager to get your ass kicked again?" Mustang asked, his typical smirk back on his face.

"You shut your mouth," Ed snapped. "And I'm red."

"Of course, of course," Mustang replied as he picked up his controller. "I'm blue. I prefer that color anyways."

As Ed set up the game again, he prepped himself and went over strategies in his head. Now that he knew that Mustang was a capable player and what he played like, Ed would be able to adjust his playing and win. Mustang had caught him off guard and distracted him - that was all. But no more. Ed was not just going to win; he was going to make Mustang never want to play Halo again. That ought to settle things once and for all.


End file.
